The Academy - Introductions (2 page)

He started up the stairs. I didn’t know if I should follow
but I didn’t want to be caught downstairs if there were other people in the
house.

Imagining that we were alone in the house also scared me.

I followed him up. At the top, the bedroom above the garage
was spacious. There was door open to the left that led to a small bathroom.
There was another door next to it that was closed and I only guessed it to be a
closet. There were windows facing the driveway and one looking out onto the
road at the front of the house. There was a bench seat near the window toward
the front with a couple of neatly embroidered pillows in the corners. A bed was
pushed up against the wall by a window overlooking the driveway, leaving a huge
amount of space in the middle. In the far left corner was a computer desk,
monitor turned off. A small bookshelf sat next to it.

A brass lamp glowed on his desk. He crossed the room,
touching it a couple of times and the brightness increased. He turned to me.

His black-rimmed glasses had droplets of moisture, slightly
masking his eyes and almost hid his high cheekbones. His light brown hair stuck
to his forehead and at the top of his ears. If I had to guess his age, he might
have been a couple years older than I was, if that. He was a head taller than I
was, with a medium build and his skin was fair. The way his thin brows angled
at the edges made him look curious and constantly interested. His poncho had a
Nike swoosh mark and his black Converse shoes looked brand new. If my older
sister would have seen him, she would have told me he was a nerd right off. She
may have missed the way he was standing upright, shoulders back, with a cool
confidence that I could only dream to have. What etched into my mind, though,
was the kind smile he had on his face. It warmed me instantly.

I blushed when I realized he was examining me under the
same scrutiny. I imagined I looked like a complete wreck. My dark blond hair
was tied up in a small bun in a clip, but half undone and sticking to my neck.
My small nose was probably bright red from the surprising chill of the night
and my green eyes were probably bloodshot or had heavy bags or both. I was
probably as pale as a ghost with the dark poncho sagging around me. My jeans
were sticking to my legs, my Sketcher sneakers were discolored from wear and
dripping.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “I should probably have taken my shoes
off. They’re soaked.”

“I’m not worried about the carpet right now. One thing at a
time.” He dropped my book bag on the floor by his desk and then moved toward
the bathroom door. “Take that poncho off and let’s look at your arm.”

I followed him, pulling the poncho away and bending over a
little to pull it off of me. The green t-shirt underneath stuck to my body so
much I might as well not have worn it at all. It was up against my breasts,
including pushed up between them, clearly outlining even the details of the
underwire in the bra I was wearing. The cloth sucked into my belly button.

His eyes followed where I was looking. I tried pulling the
shirt away from my body but as soon as I let go, it fell back against me,
attaching itself to my skin. His cheeks tinted red as he took the poncho from
me and hung it on the curtain rod over the shower tub on the right. The
bathroom had just enough room for the tub, a toilet in the middle and a counter
for a sink to the left with a wide mirror above it. The powder blue flowery
wallpaper and a matching set of rugs made it feel cozy.

He reached over for my left arm lifting it gently. In the
light, I could see the blood that had dripped over my wrist from a gash. I
sucked in a breath. Now that I saw it, the sharp pain in my arm felt crisp.
 

He lifted my arm closer to his face. He investigated the
cut, using a gentle forefinger to push at my skin to check to see if it was
still bleeding. “My god,” he said. “I’m sorry. Really. This was my fault.”

I shook my head at him, trying to look nonplussed about the
pain. “It was your dog. Not really his fault. He was excited, I guess.”

“He was excited,” he agreed. He moved away to open a drawer
under the counter. He lifted out a red and white first aid kit, and reached for
a bottle of hydrogen peroxide. “I’ve noticed the lead was getting thin in the
middle for a while. When he smelled or heard you, he took off and it broke.”
His eyes met mine as he tugged me gently closer by the elbow so that I would be
at a better angle for the light. “He’s not usually that bad. He needed to go
out but he hates this weather. So I’m sorry about that. I should have replaced
the lead before now. And I don’t know why he jumped on you. He never does
that.”

His eyes were an emerald green and with the light from
above us, or maybe it was the way his glasses were hanging a little lower on
his nose, I felt my breath escape me. I found his eyes to be gorgeous. From the
depths of my mind, even while distracted, I knew I was supposed to say
something, but the way he was looking at me made my heart skip and my mind went
blank. I wasn’t even sure why I felt the way I did. I only knew that he was
making my insides flutter. “...name.”

A brown eyebrow arched. “Hm?”

“I don’t know your name.”

The soft lips smiled at the corner, just enough. He was
pleased with me. “I’m Kota.”

Kota. It was different like mine so I liked it.

He waited patiently for a moment and then chuckled as if
uncomfortable. “What’s yours?”

It took me a moment to guess what he meant. My head was still
foggy that following the conversation was difficult. “Uh... Sang.”

“As in, I sang a song?”

I nodded. “I know it’s weird.”

“No weirder than ‘Kota’.”

I smiled a little. “I suppose not. Weird names are nice,
though.”

The crest of his high cheekbones tinted to a pink that
looked nice on him. “It’s nice to meet you. And please don’t hate me.”

“For what?”

He applied a clean cloth with the peroxide to my arm. I had
been so distracted by him that I hadn’t noticed he had prepared one. The sting
went straight to my bones. The chill from the weather outside only made it that
much more uncomfortable. A shutter ran through my body, wracking my bones
together, causing the sting to radiate through me. I bit my lip, holding back
the urge to cry out in pain.

As he cleaned my arm, I turned my head, looking out into
his bedroom. Not watching him not only relieved the pain but also the
awkwardness I felt. I wanted to look at his face but I was too nervous to face
him. I didn’t want to get caught staring.

After the blood and dirt was washed away, he applied a
large square bandage to cover the spot with. “I think you’re patched up.” He
gave the sides of the bandages a few more rubs to ensure they were sticking and
then crumpled the plastic wrapper in his hands. “Anything else broken or
bleeding?”

I shrugged and shook my head. I didn’t want to mention my
hip, which felt very sore. It wasn’t bleeding so I didn’t think it was
important to mention. “I’m fine.”

He looked at me a moment, as if wondering whether I was
being honest with him or not. He slowly nodded. “Okay. Well, Sang, I hope this
won’t ruin your impression of me right off.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean we are neighbors, right? Your family just moved
in?”

My eyes widened. I guessed there was no hiding it. “Yes.
No. I mean, don’t worry about it. It was just an accident.” I pursed my lips,
unsure if I should say anything more.

His forefinger moved to the bridge of his glasses and he
slid them up. The muscle in his forearm flexed. “So what were you doing out so
late?”

I had been hoping he wouldn't ask. “Just taking a walk. I
couldn’t sleep.”

“With a book bag weighing a ton on your back? In the middle
of this weather?”

My face heated up and I didn’t know how to answer him. The
silence stretched on between us as I struggled with words. I stalled for so
long that I didn’t know if I could respond at all.

A sympathetic but confused smile spread over his lips.
“Hey, I’m sorry. Look, it’s personal. Whatever it was, did you have to do it in
the middle of the night?”

I sucked in a breath. “It felt like a good idea at the
time.”

The corner of his mouth dropped slightly but he caught it
and his face relaxed and became unreadable. “Okay. Here’s what I’m going to do.
I’m going to find you something dry to wear. I’m going to go downstairs to
change. I’ll make some hot chocolate, too. If I come back and you’re not here,
I’ll understand. If you are, you get to tell me what’s going on.” His head
bowed a little until his forehead was so close to my own that I could feel his
warmth from it. I had nowhere to look but into his beautiful green eyes. “I
make a halfway decent friend if you give me a chance.”

I didn’t know how to respond to this either so I simply
nodded. A complete stranger was offering his friendship. Right here, in this
moment, it was something I never imagined. I felt my eyes watering and I turned
my face away from him to hide it. I couldn’t look into his eyes any more. It
was like he could see into me and who I really was and I didn’t want him to see
me.

He straightened up and stepped out into his bedroom. I
stood in the doorway of his bathroom to watch. He opened the closet and pulled
out a gray t-shirt.

“It’ll be big on you,” he said. He dug around into the back
and pulled out a pair of blue striped pajama bottoms. “These might be too big
as well but it at least has a tie.” He hung the clothes over his arm and closed
the closet door. I stepped backward into the bathroom and he held out the
clothes. Our fingers brushed and his eyes held mine. “Just put your wet things
in the bathtub for now. When they aren’t so soggy, we’ll toss them into the
dryer.”

I was unable to express to him how warm and welcome he was
making me feel. I mustered up my warmest smile. It was all I could manage.

When he spotted it, he paused in his motions to look at me.
I wondered if I appeared crazy to him so I tried to backpedal and look just
normal -- pursing my lips and looking compliant.

There was a change in his expression that I didn’t quite
understand but he turned away and closed the bathroom door behind himself.

After he left, I flipped the lock on the door and stood in
the bathroom, looking at my reflection in the mirror. My hair was strung out,
even though the clip I had it twisted in hung on. My cheeks and nose were red and
my skin looked so pale compared. I felt embarrassed that he saw me like that.
The thought of leaving crept into my mind. This was more than I was prepared to
handle. Spending a night out was one thing. Staying in a house with a boy
pushed thoughts into my head, whispers my mother would recite to me. Rape.
Sexual assault. Kidnapping.

Only Kota had shown more warmth and caring toward me than
I’d felt from anyone in a long time. Here was proof against everything my
mother had taught me about the dangers of the world. The first person I’d met
took me in, was making hot chocolate and was inviting me to be his friend.
 

My heart was pounding at the thought of him coming back.
Despite his warmth, despite my own head telling me this was just what people
did, that normal people were nice and helpful, I was still nervous at the
thought of him knowing anything about me.

Was it better to be alone?

I put on his shirt and pajama pants. The ends of the waist
tie hung to my mid-thigh after I tied it off. I rolled the cuffs on the pant
legs but my heels were still stepping on the cotton material. I didn’t want to
be in the bathroom when he got back so I tiptoed into his bedroom.

The desk was so neat that it looked brand new. The bed was
unmade but the corners at the foot of the bed were tucked in sharp angles. He
must have gotten up to take out the dog. The sheets were calling to me but I
was too uncomfortable to sit on his bed and I was too sore to stand. I moved to
the window seat and knelt on the cushion to look out.

Rain splattered against the window. In a way I suppose I
was lucky I had run into Kota. I picked a bad night to break into an empty
house. Why hadn’t the weather been considered when I thought to do this? I knew
the answer to that though. Earlier that day my mother had made a point to
lecture me as I was doing the dishes.

“There was a little girl on the news today,” she had said,
standing across our kitchen and watching as I rinsed plates. She had her arms
folded under her heavy breasts, bulking up the material of her thin burgundy
robe around her. “Three men kidnapped her from her front lawn and molested her.
It took only a minute.”

It was one of a hundred similar stories I had heard over
the week. I had to bite my tongue to stop myself from telling her there were
millions of girls who played in the front lawn who weren’t kidnapped. It
wouldn’t matter. She wouldn’t listen. It was so overwhelming that to me. I felt
I needed to prove it to myself. It was my way of bringing myself into reality
and not get swallowed up into the nightmare she insisted was true. One night
out of the house would be enough.

“I guess you’re staying,” Kota said behind me. I turned on
the bench seat to look at him. He was wearing a clean white t-shirt and a pair
of green pajama bottoms. His brown hair was combed away from his eyes. He
carried two navy blue mugs with steam spiraling off the top. “I hope you’re
good with marshmallows.”